


Moaning and Groaning

by disillusionist9



Series: Choose Dare [60]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 15:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble #62 of 100 | Myrtle is bound by the same laws all ghosts suffer</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moaning and Groaning

Mortar along the walls of her bathroom stunk of the summer air pushing its way inside to ruin the gloom she'd worked on diligently since the end of the school term. The sun had no respect for the time it took her to suffuse the brick with despair and forgetfulness magic. Myrtle hated the summer air, preferring the chill and bitter wind of the winter. Not that she could smell it, or feel it, for that matter. She cared very strongly for the atmosphere of her lair, however, because she knew the Bloody Baron used it as a shortcut at two minutes past seven in the morning and five seconds before four in the afternoon.

Myrtle was the youngest ghost in Hogwarts (corporeal, at least), and the newest addition after centuries of the same old haunts. Time passed differently for the Baron, Nick, and the man who preferred to remain in the shape of a missing stair on the fourth floor. She doubted some noticed they had routines at all, but she still remembered what it felt like to wake up and take classes, following the chiming bells dutifully, keeping everything in line and in its place. However, over the decades, the reason for doing it started to fade until she kept routine for routine's sake.

Dying in a bathroom wasn't the highlight of her life, especially when she failed to take her time and glamour her hair the morning it happened. Pigtails for Herbology and Potions, and the steam from the latter forced her face to erupt into a post-mentrual fit of acne.

While she pressed her hands against the wall, and stone she thought she remembered as coarse beneath her living fingertips, a slight groan started beneath the floor and echoed through the pipes. Though the power wouldn't work on him, she went invisible anyway out of anxiety, internally cursing herself for not reaching out, striking up a conversation.

The Bloody Baron rose through the stones near the third sink from the left right on schedule. His morning trip was on a much sharper angle, and he disappeared through one of the mirrors as quickly as he'd appeared through the floor.

Myrtle wailed and splashed into the nearest toilet to sulk in the S-bend. She would be doomed to be friendless the first century of her life, where she was cursed to only haunt the bathrooms of Hogwarts. She tugged on a pigtail, resolving to not work on the walls today in punishment for her cowardice, and feined the closest thing she could reach to sleep in her immortal coil.


End file.
